Tormented Amber Eyes
by iLoveless4ev
Summary: Saving Edward mere days away from death of the Spanish Influenza, Carlisle takes Edward as his own. Leading him from the rough life he knew of being a prostitute and losing his whole family to death and sickness. AU fic, SLASH later Carlisle/Edward
1. Prolouge

**Authors Note: Hello everyone! Thank you for stopping by (:  
>This story has actually been on my mind for quite some time now, and I just recently got my lazy ass up and began to piece this together. So, let's get some warnings out of the way first.<br>Warning! This story contains mature sexual content, SLASH Carlisle/Edward Carlisle/Esme  
>Prostitution, non-consensual sex, underage sex, minimal violence.<br>Now..I'm hoping for the ones who get easily offended, you are thinking to yourself "Hmm..judging from the warning, there is something about this story I know that I will not like. So since I have common sense, I'm just going to leave now and not leave a hateful, unnecessary review. "  
>Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight in any way shape or form. All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. No money is being made off of this story<em>.<em>**

**And a HUGE thanks to my Beta Hopelina for picking out my errors when I seem to rush through and not catch them all._  
><em>**

Mommy was very upset…

Edward knelt beside the large fireplace that enveloped most of the space in the living room and just waited. He had seen his mother through many of her temper tantrums, but they were nothing compared to how she was acting at the moment.  
>Various objects went flying through the air, and Edward covered his head with his arms to protect himself from any injuries his mother might blindly inflict upon him. Salty tears of hurt and pure rage made their way down her cheeks, creating tiny wet spots on her blouse. Her eyes a bloodshot red, her small frame began to shake violently as loud sobs tore their way out of her throat.<br>When she ceased throwing things around their small home, she broke down onto the middle of the floor. Her face buried in the black, plush carpet with her arse in the air and knees quivering slightly on the ground.

Edward waited a few minutes and stared, with a quite puzzled but calm look across his face. He proceeded to crawl over to his mother and put a hand on her back. She flinched away from his touch and scooted over to the far side of the living room. She brought her knees to her chest and continued to cry. Edward gave her another few minutes and then went to sit beside her. He rested his small hand on her knee. A few moments passed and she finally looked up at her son with blank, dark eyes and immediately began to break down into hysteria. She stood up and began to pace back and forth, her head so clouded with the turmoil of the day's events.

Edward eyed his mother quietly and stayed very still, waiting for her to actually form words beyond choked cries and small groans.  
>The clock ticked away and finally his mother stood still and glanced at him through half lidded eyes.<br>Making direct eye contact with her, all Edward could see in those eyes was utter distraught. Carefully running his words over and over again in his mind, all he could muster up was a whispered "Mom…?"

She shook her head and her long Auburn colored hair fell in her face as she hung her head.  
>Edward had started to become slightly impatient with the lack of response he was receiving from her. He abruptly stood up and came to stand in front of his mother. He held onto her pale wrist and spoke again, "Mom…?"<p>

She lifted her head slightly then through her arms around her son, sobbing quietly into his shoulder. They remained like this for another five minutes or so and eventually she took a few steps back and wiped her face clean with her blouse. She proceeded to take several deep breaths and then finally spoke, "Edward, sweetheart, I'm sorry for acting the way I did…"  
>Silence rang throughout the room until his mother began to quietly sob with her face in her hands.<p>

"It's your father, dear…" she explained softly.

Edward's breath caught in his throat. The only thought that plagued his mind was the most obvious. He had tried with all of his might to not think of _that _possibility.

His mother walks inside of the house in a full hysteria, flinging things around the house, throwing herself on the floor and crying…She just kept crying…  
>The fact that it had something to do with his father, he knew something must have happened to him.<br>No! He was a strong man!

Edward's father works in the field on construction. Chicago, Illinois was really starting to boom and due to the high demand of more houses and office buildings, his father and his crew were working overtime, _all _the time.

He had been in a few accidents here and there, he gave his family quite a scare when he had slipped and fallen from a 2-story window of an incomplete house. But he always came out alright, a few bruises and scratches but nothing he couldn't handle.  
>But…something was wrong…<p>

Edward urged his mother to tell him what had happened, but she couldn't seem to quite get it out. Getting more frustrated as time went by, he dropped the matter completely though his mind was screaming for an answer.

Hours painfully went by as he lay on his bed in his room, paranoia taking hold of him and gripping for dear life.  
>Edward played out many different scenarios in his head of what could have happened to his father. He pressed his lips into a tight line and held his breath.<br>He was angry.

Blowing out a heavy sigh, he heaved himself from his resting position and started to mimic the frantic pacing his mother had done earlier in the day, thoughts running a million miles an hour.

Why wouldn't she tell him? It wasn't like he was a baby and couldn't comprehend. Edward had always been quite advanced emotionally and mentally, which explained why he didn't have any friends. Most 14 year old boys want to run outside and play, with not a care in the wind. But no, Edward would much rather spend his time reading a book of any type or playing on his Grand Piano. Oh, how he adored the silky sounds the emitted from that magical instrument... He had taught himself to play at a very young age and hasn't stopped since. He played whenever his mother had breakdown, because he knew it soothed her nerves. He was always agitated at something, all of the time…

Edward didn't need friends. As long as he had his two passions with him, his piano and assortment of books, he didn't need anybody.  
>Edward came to a halt and exhaled sharply. He was going to find out what happened to his father one way or another. Then, a sense of annoyance came across him.<p>

What did he care? It wasn't as if he and his father had anything in common. They rarely spoke to each other, and neither of them seemed to care too much.  
>Edward thought that maybe it wasn't the fact that he was worried or concerned for his father, but the fact that there was some sort of information that was being withheld from him. Yes, that was it he soon decided. He <em>hated <em>not knowing something, or not having his facts straight.  
>Edward pushed the door to his bedroom open slightly and laid his eyes over his mother passed out with her head on the table and a large bottle of Vodka on the floor beside her feet. He squinted his eyes and saw that there was a newspaper clutched in her right hand.<br>Edward tip-toed his way over to his mother, and slowly but surely pried the paper away from her. His eyes scanned over the first page quickly and his face paled at what he saw in large print.

"SEVERAL MEN FALL TO DEATH WHILE WORKING ON PITTSFIELD BUILDING SKYSCRAPER."

A lump formed in Edward's throat as he scanned over twelve names of men that were killed.

And his father had been the first name on that list.

**Authors note: Soooo here goes chapter one! :DDD  
>This honestly took me forever to write and I feel like I didn't really get anywhere with it .<br>Oh well…  
>Reviews are much appreciated! Fuels my want to write! :D<strong>

**-Sebby  
><strong>


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hiya everybody! I'm sorry I've been away for so long, I got caught up reading this wonderful fanfiction called "If You Are Prepared" and I haven't been able to tear myself away from it!**

**It's truly a wonderful read (: So I'm sorry for delaying this so much but here you go! **

**Also, I failed to mention in the previous chapter that this story will be switching back and forth from Edward's POV to Carlisle's.**

**Edward's POV**

_June 20__th__, 1918_

The hot, Chicago air blanketed my skin with a thin sheen of sweat, leaving my throat howling for a drink - preferably alcoholic. I kept a steady pace forward to nowhere and urged my thoughts to silence themselves before I drove myself mad.

Today is another reminder of how pitiful a life I have been living, of everything I have been forced to witness and experience. It started at the tender age of fourteen.

I could remember when I looked through the eyes of a child, when everything was right and pure. When I would hold both my father and my mother on a pedestal and knew nothing of the wicked world we inhabit. But as I got older, the perfection dulled in my eyes. I no longer held such respect toward my parents. Especially my Father.

Yes, he had provided over the years for my mother and I, and he had never truly done either of us wrong. But, there was always something that my Father could never seem to give to my mother or me, let alone show. It was affection. There was even a time before his "tragic" death that he would no longer greet my mother with a hug and a peck on the cheek. I remembered the long hugs and sloppy looking kisses he would address her with after a loathsome, tiring day at work. A rather large smile would dance across his lips as he would rest his vision on the warm, glittering eyes of my mother, happiness swelling both of their hearts.

But it eventually died along with my father.

I took a seat on a rundown park bench and propped my elbows upon my knees and laid my face within my hands.

Things have changed…

I never did fancy change unless utterly necessary.

Everything changed the day Father died.

Though we were never a family of wealth and social stature, my Father did make a suitable income in order to suffice for our needs. My Mother thought she need not work, not like she'd likely get a job anyway. A high school drop out that doesn't have the knowledge beyond a 10th grader wouldn't last a minute. But, she did find a job.

A job for me, too, at that.

After the 3rd wake-up call she received from various lawyers wanting so bad to foreclose our home, she eventually pushed her depression to the back of her mind and went out pursing to find SOME sort of work.

But after weeks had gone by and she had spent up the last of the family savings on trying to keep our house and vast amounts of booze, we had nothing left. So she turned to her last resort…

My Mother had always been a pretty woman. She was very petite and seemed to maintain a childish glow about her features. She had long, winding waist-length hair that was a deep shade of auburn red. Her eyes were a glittering crystal blue, though now have lost their sparkle. The Mother I had four years ago and the woman I know now are two completely different people.

Her hair is short and matted with twinge of grey here and there, her skin a deathly pale and her eyes a dull blue. I see no beauty in that, not at all.

But I guess, in a sense, it's not all her fault. A few years ago there was outbreak of a disease here in the heart of Illinois. The Spanish Influenza is what it's referred to as. My mother was slowly beginning to deteriorate due to the illness. The nurse that her most favored John kept around for her was very surprised that she had lasted that long, praying that there was a glimmer of hope that she would survive through this sickness. But she didn't.

I buried my mother a few days ago, and not a single tear left my eyes. She lost her worth to me years ago. After my father died, she no longer deserved to hold the title of a mother, but of a drunken whore. When it came to the very last chance to acquire money to keep us alive and not outside in the brutal heat of Chicago, she began to work at a whore house. She soon developed an addiction for alcohol and, not too far along after, Heroine.

Two years had passed when she began to bring her clients to the house. Day or night, it didn't matter. She was available whenever there was some sort of large sum of cash or drugs involved.

One particular Thursday afternoon when I was 16, I was lying on my bed day dreaming of some cruel fantasy that I'd never have and I heard the door creep open. A series of footsteps and hushed whispers followed, but I paid little attention to it. By that time, I already came to terms what my mother was doing to keep us here. I began to believe that her sole wants and priorities had completely changed.

She forgot me often. We didn't talk. Sooner or later, we stopped crossing paths. The only way she'd even know I was still around was when she heard the soft tapping of piano keys from the living room from time to time. But, on that day, I did not want to leave my room.

A few moments had passed and there was a gentle knock on my door. The knocker didn't wait for my answer to signal them to enter, she pushed the door open slowly. I immediately repressed a scowl from creeping onto my face.

Her lips where painted a deep scarlet red, and a little was smeared on her cheek. A petal-pink blush made her cheeks look hollow and a bit boney. A crystal blue eye shadow was sloppily done a bit too high above her eye lids. She wore a very short and tight strapless black dress. She wore no shoes, from what I could see.

I looked to her left to view a very tall, very lean and muscular man. His black hair rather short, and his eyes were probably his most apparent feature. They were a deep golden amber. They clashed with his very pale completion in a harsh but beautiful way. He wore a button up black dress shirt with a few buttons loose as well as some black slacks. He was breathtaking. Against my will, my hormonal teenage body started to react and blood began to surge to its way to my cock. Realizing what was happening, I quickly pulled a pillow onto my lap and turned to the adults standing in my door way.

I raised an eyebrow at them. Seeing as neither of them would talk, I decided to take the deed for myself. "Can I help you?" I asked simply.

My mother smiled from ear to ear and looked up at her attractive male companion.

"Edward, I wanted to let you in on a bit of a surprise." With each word, it was as if her smile grew larger and larger, her eyes never migrating from that beautiful man's face.

I nodded slowly as I spoke, "Yes, go on."

"I'm going to be moving in with Emmett!" As soon as she finished her sentence, she lifted herself onto the tips of her toes to kissed the man deeply, tongue included.

I sighed a silent sigh of relief. With the little show going on in front of me, I started to go limp. I continued to look away until she cleared her throat and I looked back at her.

"So, I want you to go pack my bags and have all of my things ready for me by the end of the night. I don't want to waste a second more in this hell hole."

I looked at her blankly for a moment before swallowing loudly. "I noticed you said 'I' and not 'we.' Where do you expect me to go, or to stay?"

She gave out an obnoxious laugh and began, "I don't fucking care where you go, boy!" She wrapped her arms around Emmett's neck and looked at me with disappointment written all over her features. "All you ever have done was suck money out of me. 'Momma I need food, Momma I need clothes, Momma I need more books.' Well, fuck it! I'm tired of spending precious money that I earn on you!"

I dropped my face into one of my hands and chortled softly to myself. "I'm only 16, Mother. What do you expect me to do to support myself? I am not yet 18 and am not old enough to enter the army let alone get a decent job!" I deadpanned her with a stare of disgust. "What the hell are you doing? Your just gonna leave me to starve? Could you really do that to your only son?"

She narrowed her eyes at me and pointed out of my door. "You'd best get off of your ass and get to packing my things," She ground the words out through clenched teeth. I didn't dare move. The defiance in my eyes made her right hand twitch a bit and I could see she was straining not to jump across the room and hit me in front of her John.

Emmett put a hand on her slender waist and spoke into her ear, almost too soft for me to comprehend, "You go into the kitchen and open us a bottle of some of the Red Wine I bought you earlier today." His gaze rested on me momentarily, causing chills to run up my spine. "Let me have a talk with him." She nodded and gave him another sloppy, deep kiss and excited the room.

When she appeared to be out of sight, Emmett closed the door and locked it with a click. I swallowed as he edged closer to my bed. My eyes roamed over his prominent features and my tongue parted out to wet my dry, crackled lips. Blood began to surge to my dick once more and I could feel my erection pressing painfully into the zipper of my jeans and my cheeks became flush. I buried my face in both of my hands and I flinched slightly when I felt the coolness of Emmett's fingers run through my hair.

Despite my confusion and urges to look at him, I dared not. I had come to the terms with myself that I was attracted to men a while ago, but people of my kind where shunned completely for such. Let alone if there even _were _people of my kind.

I silenced my thoughts immediately. There was no way my mother's John was homosexual. I told myself that maybe he was just trying to give me a little comfort… But, for what? I couldn't ever remember seeing his face ever with my mother before.

I did not know this man… And he didn't know me... Did he?

He gently made a fist in my hair and pulled my face from my hands slowly, making me look at him. My dick twitched when he smiled down at me.

"Do you know who I am?" His deep voice rumbled low in his throat and I didn't even think it possible but my dick got harder.

Not trusting my voice at the time, I shook my head. His smile widened as he tilted my head up a little and brought his face closer to mine. Though he was a good 5 inches from me, I could feel his breath on my lips and it made me shudder. I cursed my body silently in my head for reacting so badly and I closed my eyes.

"Look at me," he ordered with a stern but soft voice. My eyes snapped open and he was closer than I thought, closer than what I was comfortable with. But, he was too far for me to...

"I guess you could say, I'm your mothers adviser. She works for me." Thankfully, he intercepted my thoughts.

"You're her pimp," I muttered quietly.

He chuckled and then rose both his eyebrows. "Yes, that's another way to put it."

He let go of my hair and stepped back a little. I wanted to frown but I kept my face blank and looked in between his eyes, not daring to make direct contact.

"What your mother said a few moments ago was ignorant. She's just a bit… off, today." Emmett glanced at the door blankly before turning his golden eyes back to my deep blue. "She did fail to mention that you will be coming with us to move in with me," he looked around my room and crinkled his nose at what I'm guessing some type of foul smell he did not like. "This place is, as she said, a hell hole. I won't be having my favorite bread winner and…" He swiftly and gracefully made his way back to me and tilted my chin up to look at him. He brought his face mere inches from mine and my half hard dick sprang back to life.

I honestly don't know if he knew about my "little" problem, but as soon as I was straining again he smiled widely at me. "And my newest recruit living in this shabby old house…" Before I could say anything his brushed his lips softly against mine and I flinched again from the coolness of his being. He was gone as soon as he was there. He tipped his head in my direction and unlocked the door, disappearing down the hall to join my mother for a few drinks.

I touched my fingers to my lips at the memory... And spit on the pavement in pure disgust. Wishing I was never born, wishing my Father never died, wishing that… that the bastard had never walked into my life.

It had turned out that my mother had not known that she was going to be replaced by her own flesh and blood, her own son. Emmett had always gave her false reassurance that she was still his favorite, that she was making the most money, that he loved her. More like he loved to fuck her… and her son.

My mother and I weren't the only one's that lived with Emmett. Six other women worked as his whores. And, not too long after Mother and I moved in, the excessive use of drugs and alcohol started to wear on my Mother's appearance. Not many men wanted her. Steadily, she started losing all of her Johns to the younger and prettier girls. Then, eventually, she lost them to me.

Emmett brought me into the world of prostitution about a week after living with him. Most of the girls, including my mother, spent nights out and it was usually me and him. He eventually talked me into it, telling me it would make him love me if I brought him good money.

It felt like a decade ago, but it was only a little over a year. I never left the house much and mother stopped talking to me, so I was very naïve about many things. Including love versus sexual relations. The only experience I had prior was just the small touches I gave to myself, the few orgasms I had. Though I read many books about love, I could never fully grasp the concept. With Emmett's soft tone, gentle touches, and lying eyes, I thought that maybe I felt it... I have never been more wrong about anything.

He began selling my body after only 9 days of me staying with him. Very quickly, I started to make the most money for him. When mother caught wind of this, hatred grew strongly in her heart for me. That I was not only taking her Emmett from her, but that I was making more money, which I refused to share with her. I knew it would go to booze and Heroine. Even though I began to hate her as well, a small part of me didn't want to see her off herself on these substances.

There were numerous times she tried stealing money from me. Each and every time Emmett caught her, and beat her. But, she never learned.

It was as if Emmett never slept. He was always up at ridiculous hours of the night, doing various things around the house or in his private library that no one was allowed to enter unless escorted in by him. But, because I was his favorite, I was allowed in at anytime.

His study was usually where he would take one of the girls to have sex with him, or some random girl he picked up. There was even the occasional boy, but mostly women. There had been a few times I had walked in by accident and saw Emmett plowing a slender yet curvy woman with shiny, tangled blonde hair.

When I opened the door, he didn't stop, but looked directly at me and smiled, driving harder into the girl withering underneath him. His eyes burned with desire and he moaned loudly when he saw a blush creep over my cheeks. He signaled me to come inside with the hand that wasn't grasping the girls thigh. I stood there frozen in spot and slightly afraid. The smile quickly left his face when I didn't oblige. His eyes bore into mine deeply and I stepped into the room quietly.

The woman underneath him opened her eyes and looked at me, then at Emmett. Her eyes full of question, she opened her mouth to speak. The words were replaced by a throaty moan when Emmett gave an extra hard thrust into her.

Emmett made me touch her, made me fuck her, kiss her. And all the while he was giving me kisses of encouragement all along my neck, whispering sweet nothing into my ear, and edging me faster and harder inside her with the push and pull of his strong hands on my hips.

I wanted to cry…

Eventually, I came inside of her. While I released, Emmett bit onto my neck hard and I shuddered as I felt a warm liquid splashing onto my back.

After we cleaned up, he ordered the girl out and took me over three times that same night.

I woke up sore, in his bed. His limbs were entangled with mine. I cried silently into the pillow underneath me before, eventually and slowly, getting up.

That was the first of many orgies and one-on-one fucks we had.

I stood up from my seat on the bench and began walking again down the lonely sidewalk again. I stopped for a brief second and began coughing violently, feeling sticky red blood exert itself from my body onto my hand. I wiped my hand on the back of my jeans and proceeded to walk until I arrived at the District.

I saw a sleek black, Roadster parked near a few tree's to keep the sun from beating down the nice car.

I instantly knew that was my ride. Emmett told me this man carried big bucks, and he would be my new John. I pulled out a small piece of parchment from my back pocket and read the words "Carlisle Cullen 2:30 PM."

I took in a deep breath and proceeded to the parked car.

**Authors Note**: **Again I just wanted to apologize for taking over a month to update this ._.**

**I told myself that I didn't want to write it anymore but I pressed through! And came up with a new plot format. It generally fits the basic outline of the story I had but with a few extra tweaks.**

**AND THANK YOU SO MUCH HOPELINA FOR STICKING WITH ME!**

**You're awesome 3**

**Review review Revieewwww ;DDD**

**You know you want to ;DDDDD**

**Thanks everyone 3**

**-Sebby**


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